Loving Lady Marcia

by Kieran Kramer

  They were in the midst of choosing which one, a task which had perked them both up quite a bit.

  Now Alice pushed back the curtains so that the morning sun poured into the room. “The mail comes but once a week these days,” she said, “ever since Paddy O’Dell was caught stepping out on Peggy Keeley. He used to go out of his way to get to the village, but he’s slow to show up. He does when he does.”

  “I’m anxious to know.” Marcia sighed. “Surely one of those three schools needs a teacher.” She put down her uneaten piece of soda bread. “Kerry, I’m finished here, thank you. I think I’m going to write to that school in Cork. It’s awfully far away, but I might not have a choice.”

  “But you haven’t eaten or drunk a thing,” Kerry protested, lifting the tray away. “You’re looking too thin, Lady Marcia.”

  “That you are, my lady,” said Alice. “I make sure Mrs. Logan prepares you tasty meals, but you’ve been turning up your nose at them. Your mother and father wouldn’t be happy. And I don’t want them chastising me when they see you next and you’re about to blow away in the wind.”

  “Alice, no one chastises you.” Marcia grinned and got out of bed. “That’s your job, to chastise us. Right, Kerry?”

  Kerry giggled.

  “It’s what I do best.” Alice beamed, and with gentle but firm fingers, pushed Marcia back down on the bed. “You’re not going anywhere until you eat your fine soda bread—the best in the world—and drink your tea. Kerry?”

  “Alice, I really—” Marcia began.

  Alice shushed her sharply. “No more speaking until your stomach is full. Kerry, don’t just stand there. Bring over the tray.”

  “You’re taking this much too far,” Marcia warned the housekeeper, but she put little heat into the words. She knew she was fighting a losing battle.

  Kerry’s eyes flew wide, and she stood frozen.

  “It’s all right,” Marcia soothed her. “Bring me my breakfast, please, even though I don’t want it. I’m under the control of a dragon. And sometimes the dragon must win.”

  Kerry placed the tray on Marcia’s lap.

  Marcia slanted a glance at Alice, who didn’t appear to mind in the least being compared to a fanciful reptilian creature who breathed fire.

  “There, that’s better,” Alice said with a happy smile when Marcia bit into her soda bread.

  It was delicious, actually. But her appetite had decreased since coming to Ireland. She’d been blue. Unsettled. No matter how hard she tried to fall back into the usual comfortable routine she always enjoyed at Ballybrook, her heart was heavy, her days dull rather than cozily familiar.

  The only thing that had saved her from total despondency was researching schools in Dublin and writing letters in the hopes of securing a teaching position in one of them. For the first time, she’d take advantage of the fact that Daddy was well respected and admired in Dublin. His name would carry weight. She’d have no letter of recommendation from Lysandra to ease her way. Indeed, her leaving Oak Hall under a cloud was sure to be a sticking point.

  A knock came at her bedchamber door just when Kerry was finishing Marcia’s hair.

  “Come in,” she called.

  It was another maid, a colorful one that Kerry had enjoyed getting to know. “My lady, you have a visitor in the red drawing room,” she said. “Her name is Aislinn Brennan, and she’s a common girl like me but with lovely manners and in a saffron-yellow gown I’d give anythin’ to have. She came in a hired carriage, but it’s got a new coat of paint, and the driver’s wearing his Sunday coat.”

  Marcia smiled at Kerry in the looking glass.

  “I don’t know an Aislinn,” she said. “Did she say why she came to pay a call?”

  “She was quite hush-mouthed on that, my lady,” said the maid. “I’ll tell Mr. Calhoun to send her away if you’d like.”

  Marcia stood from her dressing table. “That won’t be necessary. If for nothing else, I want to see this saffron-yellow gown.”

  Moments later when she saw the girl, her heart did a little flip—not about the gown, either, although it was lovely. Her visitor stood in front of one of the great windows, veritably trembling in her slippers.

  “Take a seat by me, why don’t you?” Marcia sat on a long sofa and patted it.

  Slowly, the girl came forward. Marcia had seen her only once before, at Lord Chadwick’s house in London. Today, she didn’t appear ever to have been in service. Marcia would have judged her a shop clerk or the wife of a humble business owner: a baker, a cobbler, or the proprietor of a small hostelry.

  Gingerly, the young lady called Miss Brennan took her seat, smelling faintly of violets. When their gazes met from a mere foot away, Marcia noted not only how attractive she was—with a country girl’s dewy skin and glowing hair—but also the fact that she appeared to be about the same age as she.

  “Miss Brennan, thank you for visiting,” Marcia said with a pleasant smile. She was the hostess of Ballybrook at the moment, and just like Mama, she’d welcome people warmly, no matter how nervous she felt inside. “What are you doing so far away from London?”

  Miss Brennan flashed her a brief smile. “It’s a long story.” She drew a breath. “That’s why I’m here, to explain some of that to you. I think you’d be interested.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and thank you for seeing me with no notice, my lady. I traveled all day yesterday to get here from my home in Drumree. Last night, I stayed at the Drake Inn in Finlow. As soon as I leave you, I’ll be heading back to Drumree, so I promise I won’t take a great deal of your time.”

  “That’s perfectly all right,” Marcia assured her, “although I must admit to being rather flummoxed. May I call you Aislinn?”

  “Of course, my lady.” She bit her lower lip. “I received a letter from my friend Margaret, who’s still employed by Lord Chadwick. She told me that his heart is broken.”

  Marcia stiffened. “I don’t think we should speak of personal matters, Aislinn. Is there some business I might help you with?”

  The girl blushed. “I’m sorry, my lady. But when I read that letter from Margaret, I knew I had to come see you right away. Please let me say what I’ve come to say. I mean no disrespect. And I promise I’ll leave you in peace after I do.”

  “Very well.” Marcia braced herself.

  Aislinn looked down at her gown, as if to gather her courage.

  “Go on,” Marcia encouraged her softly.

  Finally, Aislinn met her gaze again. “I’m dressed in these fancy clothes and have money in my pockets for the first time in my life because Lord Chadwick, when I left his service, paid me four years’ wages four times over for taking care of Joe—his son and my dear, dear lamb—since he was an infant.”

  “My,” said Marcia, curiosity burning in her, “that was very generous of the earl.”

  “Let me tell you why he did it,” said Aislinn, warming up to her story. “He believed I had a family emergency. But it was really because his brother”—she lifted her chin—“his brother Finn and I … we had an affair.”

  She winced and looked away, then looked back at Marcia to see her reaction.

  “I see.” Marcia never let on for a second that she’d been taken aback. She was shocked, of course. She shouldn’t be talking to this stranger about her affair with Finn. But despite herself, she wanted to hear more. “What exactly did you tell Lord Chadwick?”

  Aislinn’s mouth thinned. “That I had a very ill sister back home, and that she was going to die and that I’d have to stay in Ireland to take care of her children.” Her eyes grew shiny. “I hated to lie to him. But I was afraid to tell him the truth. He’s too good, my lady. I knew it would break his heart.”

  “He is good, isn’t he?” Marcia could barely say the words, she missed him so much.

  “Indeed, he is,” said Aislinn. “But as for his brother, he’s a menace to society. I don’t know how I could have been in love with him.” She sighed. “But he was so charming,
my lady.”

  “I—I know,” Marcia said with equal feeling. “He certainly can be.”

  “He smiled at me as if I were the only girl in the world,” Aislinn rushed on, “even though I was a maid and he’s a gentleman.” A regretful furrow formed on her brow. “I can’t believe I was so taken in.”

  “Truly, Aislinn”—Marcia squeezed her hand a moment—“I hope you got over your heartbreak quickly.”

  “No, I didn’t,” the girl replied. “I was so miserable, I had to quit working for Lord Chadwick, which meant I had to leave Joe. I just couldn’t bear seeing Mr. Lattimore. And I couldn’t stand deceiving the earl. If he’d known I’d been with his brother, well … it just wasn’t right, was it?”

  “I understand.” It hadn’t been right for Marcia, either. She and Aislinn had a great deal in common, despite their differences in station. They’d been two girls who’d fallen in love with the wrong man.

  “So, anyway, my lady”—Aislinn sat up a bit higher—“Margaret told me in her letter that she’d confessed to Lord Chadwick the truth of my story and that he’d thrown his brother out of the house permanently as a result.”

  Marcia’s heart beat faster at hearing that. “I knew he had, but I didn’t know why.”

  Aislinn nodded. “Mr. Lattimore is completely cut off. Margaret seems to think he’s got a pattern of seducing ladies.”

  “What a shame there are men like that in the world,” Marcia murmured, and for the first time, she could look back on what had happened to her with Finn quite dispassionately.

  “Exactly.” Aislinn’s eyes widened. “But I’ve more news. Not two days ago, I got a letter from Lord Chadwick himself. He told me he wasn’t at all upset with me. He blames his brother for tempting me into the affair. He’s glad, he is, that I don’t have a dying sister. And he says I’ve still earned all that money—it’s mine to keep, he said, Lord love him.”

  “I’m so glad for you,” Marcia said, and she meant it.

  Aislinn smiled. “And that brings me to the point of my visit, my lady. I hear Lord Chadwick is so heartbroken over you, he’s stopped reading to the servants. He had just finished Gulliver’s Travels and was starting on King Lear. He’s also quit everyone’s pianoforte lessons. He kept up the chess lesson with Warren because Warren took to playing against himself and was losing every time, and he’d go into these great sulks.”

  “Aislinn.” Marcia’s mouth tipped up at the corners.

  “No, really, my lady.” Aislinn nodded vigorously “And as for Joe”—she twisted a bunch of her skirt in her fingers—“he’s got a puppy. And he’s very preoccupied with it. The earl doesn’t have the heart to go to the park twice a day with them, either. He goes once a day with Joe and the puppy, and then he sends a servant the other time. At nights now, he drinks in his library. Sometimes he starts in the afternoon.”

  “No,” whispered Marcia.

  Aislinn nodded again, sorrowfully. “Did you know no one ever looked after him growing up?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “His old nurse came to visit a long time ago, and she told us all sorts of things about his childhood. He never once had a story read to him by his mother or father. And his father never challenged him in a single game of chess. Nor did his mother notice how much he longed to play the pianoforte. She was too troubled by his father’s infidelities to notice the children.”

  “That’s horrible,” Marcia whispered.

  “Not once did he hear affectionate words from any member of his family,” Aislinn went on. “Thank God for his nurse. She told him she loved him often. The truth is, my lady, growing up, the earl cleaned up after his father to protect his mother, and he did the same for his brother, and they never seemed to appreciate or notice how much he loved them and took care of them. He still looks after everyone else, doesn’t he?”

  “He does,” said Marcia, and felt such a rush of love and pity for him, she got tears in her eyes.

  Aislinn wiped away a few of her own. “But since you left, he’s ignoring everyone, except Joe, although even with Joe he’s not as active as he was, as I just explained. You’d think this would be a good thing—he’s finally thinking of himself, right? But he’s not. He’s ignoring himself, too. And I’m terrified, my lady. You’ve got to do something. He’s the most wonderful man in the world, and if he cares for you, you’re an extremely fortunate lady.”

  Oh, how Marcia’s heart ached to hear all this! She stood and walked to the window to gaze at the lake to the side of Ballybrook’s east wing. Daddy had placed some benches there. It was one of her favorite thinking spots.

  What if Duncan hadn’t been able to tell her he loved her … because he didn’t know how? Or because he was afraid to? Perhaps he’d been about to that day in Daddy’s library, when she’d stormed out after telling him he’d marry her over her dead body.

  Blast it all. Why hadn’t she waited to hear what he’d had to say?

  I have to see him.

  She turned back to Aislinn. “Thank you for coming here to see me.”

  “I can see I’ve upset you, my lady. I’m sorry. But I had to let you know.”

  Marcia forced herself to smile at the girl. “I’m glad you did. I really do appreciate all your efforts to get here. Please consider staying the night.”

  Aislinn put a hand to her heart. “Here? At Ballybrook?”

  Marcia nodded. “Yes, of course, in one of our guest rooms. Would you prefer a green décor, or gold?”

  The girl’s face lit up. “Oh, green, my lady.” She bobbed a curtsy and grinned from ear to ear. “Thank you ever so much.”

  “It’s the least I can do,” Marcia said, a lump in her throat, “for all the years you’ve taken care of Joe. And for your taking the time to visit me and share with me some very … pertinent information about the earl.”

  Aislinn’s eyes filled with tears. “It was and is an honor, my lady.”

  “I’ll send the carriage away, and one of ours will return you to Drumree.”

  “All that way?”

  “Yes, of course,” Marcia said. Aislinn clapped her hands together in delight. “Is it on the Dublin Road?”

  “Oh, yes,” the former maid said.

  “Good”—Marcia hesitated—“because I’ll be going with you.”

  “You, my lady?”

  Marcia nodded. “I have to see the earl.”

  Aislinn looked happy enough to burst. “I’m so glad!”

  And then Marcia had an idea. “Would you like to come to London, too? Just on a visit? I’ll pay your expenses each way, of course. Perhaps it would be good for you to see Lord Chadwick, as well as your old friends—and Joe.”

  Aislinn’s face fell. “Do you think so?”

  “Yes. I can see you’re still troubled by not having a frank talk yourself with the earl. And it would be good for Joe to see that just because you’re not working in their household doesn’t mean you’re gone forever.”

  Aislinn brightened. “I’d love that. Thank you, my lady!”

  Marcia smiled. “You’re welcome. I’ll get a footman to retrieve your things from the carriage and send it on its way.”

  “Oh!” Aislinn’s cheeks turned red. “That reminds me. I brought your mail. When we went through the village, they gave it to us and asked us to carry it with us. I’m sorry—I was so nervous when I arrived, I left it on the seat.”

  “That’s perfectly fine,” Marcia said, but she felt a strange dread seize her. She’d been so looking forward to hearing word from the Dublin schools, but now …

  She wasn’t sure what to do if one of them asked her to interview.

  She rang for the butler. When he appeared, she instructed him to retrieve the mail in the carriage and to bring it, along with tea and cakes, to the drawing room. Then she turned to Aislinn. “I can’t wait to hear your stories about taking care of Joe. Let’s sit again, shall we?”

  So they both sat. This time, the tension had all gone from Aislinn’s face. She’d
said what she’d come to say. Now she could enjoy herself.

  “Well, if we start from the beginning”—Aislinn settled herself back on the sofa pillows—“I don’t know who Joe’s mother was.”

  Marcia had always wondered herself.

  “But I do know that when Lord Chadwick brought Joe home as an infant,” Aislinn went on, “we were all very worried.”

  “Why?”

  The girl looked about the room. “I don’t know if I should say.”

  “Then you shouldn’t,” Marcia replied gently, although she was dying of curiosity. “If you break someone’s confidence without permission—”

  “The way Margaret did mine?” Aislinn interrupted her.

  “It’s never a good thing.”

  “Although it was in my case,” Aislinn insisted. “It did me good to know Lord Chadwick forgave me for lying about my sister. And I’m glad the truth came out about my affair with Mr. Lattimore. It could have been someone else in the household he went after next. But you were saying, my lady?”

  “Th-that secrets should be kept. Unless you have permission to reveal them.”

  Aislinn squinted at the window then back at Marcia. “Are you sure? Even after what I just told you?”

  “Yes.” Marcia chuckled. “So don’t tempt me to ask.”

  She could tell her answer frustrated Aislinn no end, but the maid contained herself and began to relate the story of Joe’s first steps.

  A footman brought in the mail. Another brought the tea tray.

  “Excuse me a moment,” Marcia told Aislinn after the servants had gone.

  There were five letters. One from Cynthia, one from Janice, one from Mama. Then there was—oh, dear—one from Dublin. And one from—

  The Duke of Beauchamp?

  Marcia recognized the seal instantly. “If you don’t mind, Aislinn, I’ll read a couple of these here. Would you pour for us both?”

  “Of course, my lady,” Aislinn said proudly.

  “Thank you. I take one sugar and milk, please.”

  “Very good, my lady.”

  While Aislinn carefully poured, Marcia opened the note from Dublin. It was excellent news. One of the schools wanted her to interview for a teaching position. She was to report the next Friday at two o’clock. The headmistress wrote that she had always admired the Marchioness of Brady and was gratified that Lady Brady’s own daughter would consider a position with their school.